


Insatiable

by deathtouch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medical, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/F, Fingerfucking, Medical, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Medical Professionals, Obstetrics, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Recto-Vaginal Exam, Sexual Roleplay, Strep B pregnancy screening, Trans Character, Trans Moira O'Deorain, Watersports, ob/gyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathtouch/pseuds/deathtouch
Summary: ☛ in which moira is a genetic counselor working in obstetrics with a pregnancy kink and a very understanding wife...The end of April was always frustratingly busy because of all the new patients, fresh faced with that clean pregnancy glow, just barely showing. It was three months after Valentine's Day and every new mother was hurrying in for their ten-week, end-of-the-first-trimester check-up. Of course, ten weeks was when genetic testing could begin, and genetic counselors like Moira were suddenly in short supply and high demand.





	Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

> i went full deathtouch with some real hardcore medfet content in this one folks. slams the 'sorry i'm like this' button. if ur not into medical procedures, this fic probably isn't for you. 
> 
> also im cis and this is kinda my first time writing a trans character, so i'd like to apologize in advance for any inaccuracies or if i've done a poor job. concrit is welcome in this case, but i am just a babie so pls be kind when offering corrections or advice. 
> 
> and lastly, thank you to the kind soul who beta read this fic for errors. someone rly put up w me and my weird kinks enough to edit this. damn! i am honored and humbled by the kindness of my pals.

Moira closed the door behind her and paused there for a moment to collect herself. It was much busier out in the hall than it had been in the exam room, but she could actually breathe out here. Even as the nurses rushed by in a hurry, even as patients made their way through the halls, even as fellow doctors walked passed with charts in hand and purpose to their posture, it was still better than in there, with her latest patient and that achingly innocent ten-week pregnancy swell; so subtle, so soft, so maddeningly immaculate.  
  
The end of April was always frustratingly busy because of all the new patients, fresh faced with that clean pregnancy glow, just barely showing. It was three months after Valentine's Day and every new mother was hurrying in for their ten-week, end-of-the-first-trimester check-up. Of course, ten weeks was when genetic testing could begin, and genetic counselors like Moira were suddenly in short supply and high demand.   
  
She wondered, not for the first time, how she had ever ended up in a job like this anyway. She had such aspirations. She was going to win an Edward Novitski Prize. Just as she was beginning to lament her life choices and question her _raison d'etre_ , she remembered what Angela Ziegler had looked like ten years ago when they were in medical school together.  
  
Soft pink lips, big blue eyes, that perfect blonde hair always adorably messy. Even the modest clothing she used to wear back then made her look like an angel, fulfilling her name-sake impressively. Angela was the first friend she made in med-school, the first person to respect her pronouns and use her chosen name, the first serious relationship she'd ever had.  
  
Of course Moira would have followed her anywhere. To the ends of the earth. Into the dark, dingy corners of emergency medicine. Into the ungodly competitive specialty of neurosurgery. Into gynecology and obstetrics.  
  


* * *

_"Obstetrics," Angela said happily, smiling, all proud of her career choice. "I can't think of anything more important than bringing babies into this world."_  
  
_Moira smirked, unimpressed. Babies? There was nothing interesting about that. "I'm going to be a geneticist." She was going to cure disease, improve the human condition, make a name for herself._  
  
_Angela gasped with delight. "You should look into obstetrics, too! Genetic counselors are so important to prenatal care. You'd be amazing." She laid her hand on Moira's arm, where Moira's sleeve was rolled up. Skin touching skin. She got this look in her eyes, a glittering of determination. "We could do it together."_

* * *

  
  
And what was Angela doing now, huh? She just _had_ to take a leave of absence so that she could sit on her ass with her feet up while eating ice cream on the couch. Moira was stuck working double shifts without her. It wasn't fair. Moira needed her here.  
  
"Oh, good, Moira! You're not busy!" Dr. Jean-Baptiste Augustin had popped in from the next room over.  
  
Moira was pulled from her thoughts back to the real world. She was suddenly acutely aware of everything happening busily around her as she stood leaning against an exam room door with her head in her hand.  
  
"I am busy, actually," she countered. She checked her watch. She had a few minutes to spare until her next appointment, but with the way things were going, she wanted to get there early.  
  
"C'mon. I need a second pair of eyes and all the nurses are busy."  
  
Moira practically blanched. Oh no. Nope. She couldn't handle that. She knew exactly what Jean-Baptiste was asking, and there was no way she could do it. She had barely gotten through the appointment with her own patient unscathed, and all she'd had to do was ask questions about family history and draw some blood. If she had to bear witness to an actual pelvic exam, she was going to lose it.  
  
She understood completely how important it was for these sorts of procedures to be chaperoned by a third party so that no medical malpractice lawsuits would happen. She just wasn't a good choice for a chaperone. Surely there was someone else around who could do it...  
  
Jean-Baptiste stepped out into the hall fully, exam room door closing behind him. He got in close, whispering to Moira. "I've got a high roller in there. I don't want to keep her waiting. Just do me this one favor, and I'll get you back the next time you need me."  
  
Ugh. That was another thing Moira couldn't stand. All the wealthy and powerful clientele who flocked to this particular OB/Gyn clinic like there was nowhere else in the world to have their baby looked after.  
  
It made sense that this place was sought after. They were well funded with state-of-the-art technology and medical equipment. They also hired an impeccably accomplished staff with some of the most celebrated and notable doctors in the world employed here. It was just that the rich and the famous weren't always the best patients. Emotional pregnant women were one thing, but when they had weight and money they could throw around, it was even worse.  
  
Cursing under her breath, Moira gave in. She wouldn't want to be left hanging if she was in Jean-Baptiste's position, and Angela was always reminding her to be kinder and to consider other's feelings... or whatever it was she said when she was reprimanding Moira. She always used this infuriatingly hot, scolding tone and all the words went right out the window every time. The only thing Moira could focus on when Angela talked to her like that was her immediate and intense arousal.  
  
Moira followed Jean-Baptiste into the exam room he'd just stepped out of and was immediately bombarded with the sight of an extraordinarily pregnant woman. She'd been working here long enough that she recognized this as a third trimester pregnancy with multiples, likely twins. A pregnant belly that size would look big a normal size person, and it just had to be on an unreasonably petite young lady. This patient had to be under five and a half feet and probably barely over a hundred and ten pounds... before the pregnancy.   
  
Moira fought the instinct to turn tail and run. Soft, barely-there baby bumps were good, but massive convex stomachs that bulged outwards cartoonishly like these were even better. It made her damn near weak in the knees. God, where was Angela when she needed her?  
  
"Miss Song, this is Dr. O'Deorian," Jean-Baptiste introduced them. "She's going to chaperone the strep screening."  
  
"Oh, sure," Miss Song - Hana, according to her chart - said, waving a hand indifferently. If she was this far along, she was well used to being poked, and prodded, and examined by now. She was perfectly aware that a witness needed to be present during any type of intimate examination. She didn't seem all that concerned about it. "Nice to meet you, doc."  
  
"And you, Miss Song," Moira greeted her, offering a hand to shake.  
  
She tried not to stare too hard at Hana's massive belly. She definitely wasn't inclined to reach out and touch it, or to hike up the hem of her shirt so that she might be able to see it better. No. Not at all. Moira stepped back, a good few feet away anyway. Just because.  
  
Thankfully, everything for a Strep B swab test was set up and ready to go so she wouldn't need to be here very long. Jean-Baptiste was nothing if not prepared. Moira always appreciated that about him. A metal tray with all the necessary supplies was sitting nearby. Hana was already disrobed from the waist down, papery privacy sheet draped over her legs. All Baptiste had to do was pull on a pair of nitrile gloves, and all Hana had to do was put her feet in the extended stirrups.  
  
"Hana here is having twins, two girls," Jean-Baptiste said conversationally as he wheeled his stool into position between Hana's spread thighs. He adjusted the sheet to give himself better access.  
  
Moira hummed, attempting to make the little noise sound interested. "Have you picked out names yet?" she asked.  
  
Pregnant women always wanted to tell her the names. Always. Even at ten weeks they were referring to the strawberry sized fetus growing inside them as "Little Jeremy" or “Caitlin Rose" already.  
  
"The dad wants Cadence and Melody," Hana said, clearly quite comfortable laying back with her feet up and legs splayed wide. She didn't seem to care about the man sitting in front of her, pulling a cotton swab from its sterile tube. She was all too used to this. "Or Harmony and Melody. If it's not obvious, he's a musician."  
  
"Ah, I see." Moira nodded.  
  
"Alright, vaginal swab first," Jean-Baptiste cut in.   
  
Moira was standing just behind him. She could see plenty over his shoulder and watched clinically as Baptiste inserted the swab. Hana had an awfully pretty vulva and nice, soft pink labia. It didn't quite thrill Moira the way her swollen belly did, though. Looking at her exposed vagina was almost safer.  
  
Jean-Baptiste collected the sample he needed and returned the swab to its tube so that it could be transported to the lab. "Okay." He set the sample aside and reached for a new swab, unscrewing it from the tube. "Now for the rectal swab. I can't lubricate it or else it'll contaminate the sample, so I'm going to insert it dry. It's small, though, so you should only feel a little pressure. That's it."  
  
Hana made an adorably annoyed face before nodding a little. "Okay, got it."  
  
"Deep breath for me. In, and out." Jean-Baptiste guided her. He readied the second swab, got it all lined up, and on the exhale, he pushed it into her tightly puckered hole. To her credit, she only grimaced a little. It was pulled back out again just a few seconds later, and the sample collection was complete.  
  
"Nicely done," Jean-Baptiste commended, securing the second swab in its tube. Moira was ready to bolt out the door, desperate to head to her next appointment, but of course it wasn't that easy. "Any other questions or concerns while I'm down here?" Baptiste asked Hana.  
  
Moira would need to stick around if any further examination was necessary. _Please, no,_ she thought. _Let this be done._  
  
"Nah, I'm good. You answered most of the questions I had earlier, so." Hana shrugged.  
  
Perhaps there was a God after all?  
  
"Alright," Jean-Baptiste wheeled backwards and began stripping off his gloves. "I'll let you get dressed, then."  
  
"It was nice to meet you, Hana,” Moira said, following Jean-Baptiste out the door. “Good luck with the twins."  
  
Hana thanked her. The two doctors exited the quiet exam room, delving back into the chaotic energy of the busy hall.

Jean-Baptiste went to deliver the two samples to the designated area astride the admit desk. Someone would come along and carry all the samples waiting there to the lab soon enough. "I owe you one," he said, nudging Moira a little.  
  
As much as she would love to stand around and hold it over him that he did in fact owe her one, Moira really did have another appointment to get to. She hurried away from him and made her way to the exam room where she was due. All the rooms were in use at this time of year so it wasn't exactly tucked away in an isolated corner of the office, as there were no isolated corners, but she did have to walk away from most of the bustle and activity to get there.  
  
Moira was in such a rush, she didn't even knock first. She just shoved the door open and hurried inside, pushing it closed so she could lean back against it and attempt to catch her breath a second time. Of course, her patient was already in there, sitting on one of the guest chairs with a book in hand.  
  
"My, my, what's happened to you?" Angela asked, slotting a bookmark in and setting the novel aside.  
  
Moira wiped a hand down her reddening face. "You can't do this to me again," she said. "You have to schedule your appointment for earlier in the day next time."  
  
Angela laughed effortlessly. "Moira, it's ten AM."  
  
"And I've seen four different patients already." Moira pushed off the door so she could cross the room and join Angela.  
  
"What hardship for you." Angela fondly rolled her eyes. "You could stand to learn a little patience, you know."  
  
Moira crouched down low, putting herself at eye-level with Angela's bulging belly. She wasn't thirty-six weeks along with twins, so it didn't quite compare to Hana Song's swollen stomach. It was Angela though, so it was perfect no matter what size she was. Moira moved the wooly cardigan that obscured her view and laid her long fingered hands on the perfectly round shape of her lover's big, pregnant belly.  
  
Considering how much time she spent adoring Angela's perfect pregnancy at home, she should be sick of seeing it and touching it and mooning over it by now. That wasn't the case. Moira felt her heart jump and her blood rush every single time she laid eyes on Angela in her flawless, full-bellied condition.  
  
Before Angela decided she wanted to have a child of her own, she and Moira would come into work together usually an hour or so early, before the rest of the staff arrived. They would lock themselves away in this very exam room. Moira would be able to work through all her insatiable and unsavory urges, getting it all out of her system. Then she could spend the rest of her day focusing on her patients.  
  
It wasn't her fault she was like this. How was she supposed to know she had a thing for pregnant women? The delicate way they walked, the way they groaned and held their lower back with one hand when they stood, the way their round pregnant bodies made adorable bumps in their shirts.  
  
Moira should have realized back in med school when she was doing her OB/Gyn rotation... but she had been so focused on school, so exhausted and overworked, so enamored with Angela Ziegler. She thought all the intense feelings would go away when she got a secure job and a stable home and a steady relationship. Only they didn't. It was a whole God damned decade later and she was still intensely affected by her job every single day.  
  
It was even worse now that Angela was pregnant. Moira was insatiable. She could and did spend hours with Angela’s legs hooked over her shoulders, eating her out, one hand extended to stroke her fingers over that perfect pregnant swell. Angela looked so pristine; her body so idyllic. There were no words to describe it, the way her soft curves struck a fire in Moira like nothing else.  
  
What made matters worse was that Angela was on leave now. She couldn’t exactly come in early every morning to help Moira exhaust her devious sexual desires before work began. Moira was forced to endure each day alone, left twisting helplessly in the wind.  
  
“I can’t wait any longer,” Moira insisted. She slid a hand under Angela’s shirt, stroking over her bare skin.  
  
“Well then, Doctor O’Deorain.” Angela smiled, all too pleased. “How do you want me?”  
  
“In the chair.” Obviously. In the exam chair with the stirrups, preferably with more than one medical device inserted up inside of her.  
  
If Moira just wanted sex, she could have gotten it at home. It wasn’t just about the sex though. It was the setting, the tools, the situation, the supplies. She didn’t want to fuck her wife, she wanted to violate a sweet, innocent little patient. God, and weren’t pregnant women just the sweetest and purest of them all? No longer virginal but still somehow chaste, bodies vessels for life instead of being objects to lust after. And yet she lusted after them.  
  
Moira knew it was wrong. It was a rotten way to feel about the people she was paid to care for. Knowing this didn’t stop her from feeling that way, though. The only thing that helped was quenching some of her thirst by playing her little game with Angela before a shift started. Or, at 10 am after seeing four patients. Preferably the former, but the latter would do.  
  
Angela stood, a barely audible groan emanating from her throat. She was only in her second trimester, not carrying enough weight yet to really struggle, but she was getting there. The little signs of strain made Moira want to drool anyway.  
  
Angela stripped off her humble wooly cardigan first, and then went to unbutton her blouse underneath. She had her back turned to Moira, incidentally, unintentionally hiding the view from the front that really mattered. Moira’s eyes fell to Angela’s round ass instead, so perfect to squeeze and spank. She couldn’t even wait for Angela to unbutton her skirt and slide it off.  
  
Moira found herself grabbing two handfuls of Angela’s ass, groaning helplessly. “You might need a rectal exam today, Miss Ziegler,” Moira told her.  
  
Angela chuckled fondly, pushing her hips back, egging Moira on. “Oh, are you sure, Dr. O’Deorain?” She made her voice sound all soft and sweet. “Those are always so painful. Please, be gentle with me.”  
  
Ugh. The words, the voice. It was ridiculous, but it had Moira burning with desire. It took everything she had not to shove Angela against the table, bend her over, and start getting rough. They couldn’t do that while she was with child.  
  
There were a lot of things they couldn’t do while Angela was pregnant, actually. Moira didn’t mind though. As much as she liked playing games, nothing could compare to a real-life pregnancy. She would happily trade spanking and rough play for a chance to slide her palm over Angela’s swelling stomach any day.  
  
Angela batted Moira’s hands away in order to strip off her skirt. She was wearing a matching set of underwear, blue silk and white lace. The bra, the panties, and even the socks all went together. Her lacy white socks went all the way up to her thighs, squeezing her delicately there.  
  
These undergarments were definitely new. They had to be. Angela’s breasts were growing larger and larger each day, nipples darkening, milk making them round and juicy like a ripe fruit just waiting to be squeezed to determine appropriate freshness. She didn’t fit in any of her old bras anymore, she came spilling out of them every time she put one on. Usually this meant she didn’t wear one, and whenever Moira slid her hand under Angela’s clothes at home, she could find a bare breast waiting to be groped.  
  
The new underwear was a treat, but Moira was excited to strip it off. The bra and socks could stay, that was fine, but those panties needed to go. Angela made seductive work of sliding her thumbs underneath the waistband and easing the silky underwear down over her bare behind. Moira watched, enraptured, like she’d never seen Angela’s perfect ass before. Like she hadn’t had her face buried between those cute little cheeks, eating her out back there just a few nights ago.  
  
Once the underwear was off, Moira offered her hand for stability. Angela climbed up on the little grip tape-coated step attached to the examination chair. She sat down first, got comfortable, and then laid back against the stiff leather cushion. She put her sock covered feet in the stirrups one at a time, offering herself up completely.  
  
There was just something about this, the way she looked in the exam chair. So open, so vulnerable, so exposed. With the addition of that big pregnant belly bulging upwards, she was truly a worshipful sight. Moira could feel her blood go rushing just from looking at Angela, so beautiful where she lay prone and ready.  
  
No matter how many times Moira begged and pleaded and insisted they ought to buy their very own gynecological exam chair for the house, Angela disagreed. Spending over thousands of dollars on something like that was an ‘unreasonable expense’ in her opinion. They made do with sneaking around at work instead.  
  
If Moira was being honest, the aspect of getting caught by a coworker did kind of heighten the excitement and make it more fun. Sometimes she wished she could have this in private too, though. Real privacy, not just behind an exam room door. Idolizing the woman she loved in this very specific, very particular image in the comfort of her own home would be a true luxury. One that Moira perhaps didn’t deserve.  
  
“Doctor?” Angela asked cutely, curling her toes a little. “You’re so quiet. Is something wrong?”  
  
Unable to help herself, Moira reached out to run her palm around the side of Angela’s beautiful pregnant bump. So sweet, so round; pale skin so touchable and soft. It didn’t matter that Moira had woken up cradling Angela in bed with a handful of pregnant stomach this morning. It didn’t matter that Moira would spend at least half an hour tonight smoothing cocoa butter into Angela’s protruding belly. It didn’t matter that she had just touched it a few minutes ago, stuck her hand right up Angela’s shirt. She wanted to touch it again; touch it, stroke it, kiss it, lick it.  
  
“My earlier concern was correct,” Moira asserted, keeping a professional tone to her voice despite her very unprofessional fondling of her pregnant wife’s big belly. “I’ll need to perform a recto-vaginal exam.”  
  
“Oh my. What’s that, Dr. O’Deorain?” Angel asked as if she didn’t perform them on a regular basis.  
  
“In order to assess the tone and alignment of your pelvic organs, as well as the ligaments that hold your uterus in place,” Moira reluctantly stepped away so that she could grab a pair of gloves and some lubricant. She donned the gloves as she spoke. “I’ll need to simultaneously insert one finger into your vagina and one into your rectum.”  
  
Angela sucked in a soft gasp. “Doctor... is it necessary?”  
  
Moira felt her insides twist with delight, blood rushing between her legs. The uncertainty of the question mixed with the defenseless position on the exam table were the perfect combination. “Yes,” she insisted as she stepped between Angela’s spread knees. “I’m afraid it is.”  
  
Most other times when they played together, Moira liked to whip out the big guns. Speculums, dilators, retractors. If she was feeling especially devious, and if Angela was up for a little pain, they might even play around with needles. However, with the pregnancy, it was unwise to shove too much up inside of Angela. She was already getting enough of that with her regular OB/Gyn checkups, and it wasn’t exactly a good idea to continually introduce bacteria into the tender internal parts of her body. This was fine with Moira, of course. Who was she to balk at a challenge? She could make her wife come with minimal internal stimulation. In fact, she welcomed the opportunity.  
  
So, instead of slicking up her favorite brand and model of disposable plastic speculum, she slicked up two gloved fingers instead. Her free hand came to rest on Angela’s proudly bulging belly because of course it did. She took a moment to admire Angela’s beautiful vagina, as gorgeous a sight to her now as it had been years ago when she first saw it, down on her knees, eating Angela out after their first date.  
  
“Deep breath for me. In, and out," Moira guided her, openly copying Jean-Baptiste from earlier. After all, she never had to do this type of stuff. She was a genetic counselor, not a gynecologist. (And thank God for that. Heaven help the poor patients that might have ended up with Moira - thorough and vigorous and unconcerned about any discomfort she might be causing - as their doctor).  
  
She waited for Angela to take her deep breath and readied her fingers. Her middle finger was poised dangerously just outside Angela’s pink anus, and her forefinger was just outside the even pinker opening of her vagina. As Angela exhaled, Moira pushed her fingers in. They sank into two different levels of tightness and heat and succulent wetness, both equally as appealing as the other. Moira couldn’t hide her moan and Angela couldn’t either. So much for pretending to be professional and pretending to be a scared patient.  
  
“Ouch, Doctor!” Angela finally managed a few moments later after Moira’s two fingers were buried up to the knuckles. She didn’t quite sound convincing, but she was trying her best. “That hurts!”  
  
Moira knew better, of course. She had personally stuffed both these holes full of toys before, some much bigger than the size of fingers. Angela was loving this.  
  
“Bear with me, Miss Ziegler. I’ll need to perform some tests to determine tone.” Without any more warning than that, Moira slid her fingers out almost all the way and pushed them back in again. What better way to test pelvic tone than a thorough finger-fucking?  
  
“Wait-“ Angela interrupted just as it was starting to get fun. She wasn’t putting on a faux voice of playful naïveté; she genuinely needed to stop a moment.

They’d been doing this sort of thing together long enough that Moira could tell just by the way she sounded. She paused, blinking up at Angela curiously.  
  
“Bathroom break,” Angela squeaked.  
  
Moira groaned, equal parts genuinely turned on and genuinely frustrated. Angela was always needing bathroom breaks lately. The little one growing inside was taking up more and more space every day, leaving little room for her bladder when it was full. It seemed she was always stopping in the middle of things - dinner, her sentences, sex - to run to the restroom.  
  
It would be such a hassle to get her out of the chair, into her clothes, off to the bathroom and then back to the exam room to start all over again. Moira glanced around the room, fingers still buried knuckle deep in Angela’s body, wondering if there was a bedpan around here. Not a particularly dignified solution, but also not the most humiliating thing they’d done together either. They knew each other’s limits and piss always had been fair game.  
  
“Just go,” she urged when she couldn’t find what she was looking for. “It’s alright. Maintenance will clean it up.”  
  
“I’m not making a mess like that for the janitors to deal with!” Angela protested.  
  
She had much more empathy for them and their plight than Moira did. They had cleaned up much worse than a little piss from these exam rooms. This was a hospital, after all. There was an urgent care clinic down on the first floor. Emergency medicine custodians would be living a life of luxury if the only thing they had to worry about was piss.  
  
“I’ll hold it,” Angela decided, pouting a little.  
  
Oh. She could certainly try. However, Moira had a brand-new goal now. She didn’t just want to make Angela come, she wanted to make her squirt, too.  
  
“Suit yourself.” Moira smiled deviously and began finger-fucking Angela in earnest again.  
  
The wet noises of her fingers sliding in and out were so filthy and so seductive at the same time. Angela’s breathing went all heavy at once, the immediate and intense stimulation catching her off guard in the best way. The feeling of her tight inner walls clenching around Moira’s fingers was so enticing.  
  
Moira wished she had the patience to wait longer, to draw it out, but she wanted more! She lowered her head, tall frame nearly doubling so that she could mouth at Angela’s vulva. Her tongue found Angela’s clit, drawn to it like a magnet.  
  
Angela went tense all over, digging her heels into the stirrups hard enough to make the metal creek. “Moira!” She gasped, forgetting to call her doctor. Her back arched at once, and she inadvertently pushed her pussy against Moira’s face, deeper onto her fingers, aching for more.  
  
Moira gave it to her, working her over with her mouth and with her hand, fucking her the way she deserved to be fucked. It didn’t take long at all for Angela to come. Her sex drive was heightened by the pregnancy, hormones making her wetter and more sensitive, and easier to please than ever.  
  
She announced it for the entire room to hear. “I’m gonna- I- I’m coming! I’m coming!” As if Moira couldn’t tell by the trills of shudders running through her body.  
  
To Moira’s absolute delight, Angela’s bladder let loose as soon as her orgasm overcame her. She ended up with a mouthful of piss, some of it even dripped down her chin, but it was worth it to be able to suck Angela’s clit all the way through her shuddering climax.  
  
When she pulled back, still fucking Angela’s holes with her fingers, more piss escaped in weak pulses as Angela moaned her way through the delightful aftershocks. It was so fucking hot to watch, Moira couldn’t hardly wait to pull her hand out of Angela’s body to touch herself instead.  
  
Slick with lube, and juices, and piss she thrust her gloved hand beneath the waistband of her business slacks to touch herself. Disenchanted with the inherently masculine act of stroking herself from root to tip, Moira ground the heel of her palm into the sensitive head of her cock instead. She was already slick with pre-come, so goddamn excited and ready that all it took was some good pressure and solid stimulation to send her spiraling into a mind-blowing orgasm.  
  
Things got a little fuzzy for a few seconds after that. When she came back to herself, she found she was half draped over Angela’s pregnant belly. They were both stuck in place, chests rising and falling as they came down from the incredible high of illicit sex at work. Illicit pregnant sex at work. The best kind of illicit sex at work that there could be.  
  
Wordlessly they cleaned themselves up. Well. Moira did most of the cleaning. She stripped off her gloves, plucked a handful of paper towels from the nearby dispenser and went to wipe Angela up. She was still all sensitive and shivered from the feel of anything at all touching between her legs. Moira helped her back down from the exam table and back into her clothes.  
  
“Mm,” she hummed happily. “That was fun.”  
  
“It always is,” Moira agreed.  
  
She wondered, not for the first time, how she had ever ended up so lucky to be working a job like this with the love of her life. Someone as kinky as she was, willing to go the extra mile for a good fuck. Just when she was sure she couldn’t adore Angela more, she found herself falling helplessly head over heels for her all over again. Moira really would follow her anywhere, and she was glad she had.  
  
“Well. I’ll see you back at home tonight,” Angela said. “I’ve already got the slow cooker going.”  
  
Ah. Domestic bliss. After dinner, Moira could spend all evening in her knees treasuring Angela’s pregnant stomach and the way it rounded outwards so perfectly.  
  
“I’ll see you then.” Moira leaned in to kiss Angela’s cheek and Angela just barely put a hand up in time to stop her.  
  
“Goodness gracious, Moira! I know where your mouths been! You’d better find a toothbrush before your next appointment.”  
  
Moira just chuckled fondly. She kissed the air at Angela’s cheek instead, a quick bisous, before heading out the exam door. Angela would follow a few minutes later, staggering the exit as not to seem suspicious. Not that anyone at work had any concerns with Angela coming in for an appointment with her genetic counselor - who just so happened to be her wife - but it was better to be safe than sorry about these things.  
  
Out in the hallway, Moira paused to stand with her back against the door. It wasn’t quite as busy down at this end of the hall, but she could see the activity and excitement from here. Even with a full day of more ten-week, end-of-the-first-trimester patients ahead of her - all of them as achingly innocent as the last with their soft, subtle pregnancy swells - she wasn’t worried.  
  
She finally felt like she could catch her breath.

**Author's Note:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> send requests or prompts ➝ [here](https://curiouscat.me/deathtouch)  
> follow me on twitter ➝ [here](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)  
> thanks for reading ✩°｡⋆


End file.
